Undercovers
by Greenstuff
Summary: Andy goes undercover for the drug squad and things get heated when Sam shows up unexpectedly in her apartment. Adult Content.
1. The Good Stuff

_A/N: Happy Canada Day!_

**The Good Stuff**

The club was dark. Not in a hip, atmospheric way like most successful Toronto nightclubs, but in a dirty, three out of four bulbs have burnt out but no one cares enough to change them way that made Andy very glad she was just passing through. The place was nearly empty. Two men sat at the bar, clutching almost clean glasses half full of Canadian and talking in the too-loud tones of one drink too many about the Blue Jays. In the back corner a couple of college kids were taking advantage of the near-blackness. Andy averted her eyes. She really wasn't in the mood tonight to watch a couple freshmen have sex on a table.

Lou, the aging, mostly bald, bartender nodded in greeting as she stepped past him and pushed open a worn wooden door marked _Employees Only_ and stepped into the wood paneled hallway. She could hear voices at the far end of the hall and she picked up her pace. She was running late.

"Where have you been?" Vince barely looked up as she entered the room.

She shrugged off her coat, tossing it on the back of a chair, "What's it to you?"

He glared at her, but didn't respond.

Andy scanned the small back room slowly, taking in the familiar details. There were no windows and the wood paneled walls were bare except for a dark board at the far end. She'd never seen anyone use it, in fact she wasn't sure they even had darts, but it was there all the same. Chuck sat in the back corner as always. His large frame obscured by the cloud of smoke that seemed to follow him when he moved. He was packaging the heroine they'd received that morning from Buffalo into sellable blocks with practiced hands.

In the three months Andy had been working for Anton Hill she'd never once seen Chuck and Vince separated. They worked seamlessly together, Vince handling the money and when necessary, the violence, while Chuck dealt with the drugs. And most importantly, Chuck dealt with Anton Hill. Andy, along with three others, earned their keep by moving the product from Chuck to the dealers, and the money back to Chuck. She'd been on the job three months, and though she had more than enough evidence to put Chuck, Vince and a dozen dealers in prison for the next ten years, she hadn't managed to get anywhere near the primary target. As always, Anton Hill managed to keep his hands clean and the circle with access to him very tight knit.

"You got my product?" She asked, leaning back against the wall, casually crossing her arms over her chest.

"That depends," Chuck took a long drag of his cigarette, his next words coming in a cloud of acrid smoke. "You have my money?"

She straightened, pulling a wad of twenties from the back pocket of her jeans. "Fifteen grand, right here."

Vince looked up at that. "It was supposed to be five grand."

She shrugged, "What can I say? I'm an excellent saleswoman."

Vince looked like he would dearly love to hit her, but Chuck laughed. "I told you, Vince. This one's a keeper."

Andy smiled. "So, do you have my product, or not?"

"I've got it," Chuck's gravelly voice sounded harassed. "Right there, green bag."

"Good." Andy closed the distance between them and picked up the green backpack near his desk. She rested it on the end of the table and quickly counted the packets inside before slapping the thick wad of bills on the table.

She turned to leave but found her way blocked by Vince's boney frame.

"Come to the Dragon tomorrow," Chuck said, "Anton wants to meet you."

Andy raised both eyebrows, careful to keep the sudden jolt of adrenalin rushing through her veins off her face. "What time?"

"Six. And dress up a little. Anton likes his women to look a little sexy."

Vince leered at her, "I can help if you like."

Andy grimaced. Vince was in his mid thirties, scrawny and not much taller than she was with a hooked nose and close set watery grey eyes. His black hair curled in one direction which always gave him the appearance of being out in a strong wind. Most of the time Andy ignored him, he was the middle man. A cruel man who she would happily put in jail at the end of all of this, but not one she was too concerned about. His breed of violence ran towards cutting the fingers off snitches more than to molesting women. Also, she as pretty sure if it came down to it, she could take him.

She slung the backpack of heroin over one shoulder, sidestepped Vince and grabbed her jacket. "See you tomorrow," she called over her shoulder as she stepped back out into the hall.

The two men at the bar were still talking baseball when she exited, but she noticed with amusement that the college couple had already disappeared. She wondered idly if they'd actually managed to have sex on the table before Lou threw them out or not.

It was a nice night. May had brought with it clear skies and daytime highs in the low twenties. Even at ten, the air was still warm enough that she didn't really need a coat as she walked the eight blocks to her temporary apartment, and by the time she reached the fourth floor she was wishing she'd left it behind. she unlocked her door and stepped inside without bothering to turn on the light.

"I like what you've done with the place."

The familiar voice from the darkness made Andy jump. "You shouldn't be here," She said tossing her coat and the backpack of drugs into the corner and switching on a lamp.

Sam leaned against the far wall of her room, dressed in jeans and a simple black t-shirt. He looked please with himself for scaring her and she tried, unsuccessfully to glare at him.

"Everyone around here knows you're a cop." She said, closing the distance between them, "What if someone saw us together?"

He reached for her, sliding both hands into the back pockets of her jeans, pulling her flush against him. "No one saw me." He lowered his head, capturing her lips in a kiss.

All thoughts of how stupid this was, or how he was compromising the operation melted away as Andy leaned into the kiss. Her arms twined around his neck, one hand running through his hair. She couldn't believe she'd gone without this for nearly two months.

When she'd agreed to go undercover for the drug squad, Sam was supposed to be her contact. But someone up the ladder had decided shortly after that it was too risky. Sam had tried to bust Anton once, and his cover had been blown. The service was not willing to take a chance again. And so the next time Andy checked in with her handler, it was Boyd not Sam who took her call. She'd been furious, but they were three weeks in and it was too late to back out.

She pulled her lips from his, trailing a line of kisses along his jaw and down his throat. She drew the sensitive skin of his throat, just below his Adam's apple, into her mouth and bit down gently. She was going to leave a mark, but she didn't care. The familiar taste off his skin, the low moan in his throat and his hands sliding up the back of her shirt drove her on.

Sam's t-shirt was un-tucked and with very little effort she pushed it up over his head. He had a good chest, she'd always thought so. Just the right amount of chest hair and not too much muscle. She placed open mouthed kisses along his collar bone before reclaiming his lips. She cupped his face with both hands, angling herself just right so he could thoroughly explore the inside of her mouth with his tongue.

His fingers found the clasp of her bra and soon she felt it give way and raised her arms so he could slide shirt and bra off in a single motion. Her bare breasts brushed his chest, nipples hardening instantly. This time it was Sam who broke the kiss, dropping his mouth to tease her breasts.

Andy's hands dropped to undo his belt and fly. When they fell to the floor she pulled Sam into a kiss before sliding down to kneel before him, trailing open mouthed kisses down his stomach. She heard his head hit the wall with a muted thud and was happy he neighbours were raging partiers and wouldn't be home for hours.

She hooked two fingers into the waistband of his boxers and pulled them down as well. He was already hard and she ran a finger over his length before leaning forward and taking him into her mouth. She ran both hands over his ass before settling them at the small of his back. She enveloped him slowly, forcing the muscles of her throat to relax. He tangled his fingers in her hair, not forcing her closer, but encouraging her onwards with gentle pressure.

His eyes, when she looked up at him, were almost black in the dimly lit room. She locked her gaze with his and slowly pulled back, almost but not quite releasing him from her mouth. She ran the tip of her tongue over his tip. His breath caught and she repeated the motion. She kept up the slow pace. Taking all of him into her mouth slowly, letting her tongue caress the underside of his cock, and then pulling back almost to the tip and teasing the sensitive tip with her lips and the very tip of her tongue. Her eyes never left his.

"Andy..." He ground out her name, his voice rough. "Oh fuck, don't stop."

Still bracing herself with one hand on his back, Andy brought the other around to cup his scrotum, rolling the sensitive flesh slowly between her finger.

"Fuck... Andy...Jesus..." His head dropped back against the wall, his eyes falling shut. His hips thrust towards her and she matched his tempo, sucking harder with each stroke until he came, spilling into her mouth, calling her name.

She released him slowly and then, catching his eye, swallowed.

Seconds later he had pulled her to her feet and was propelling her backwards to the rickety bed. He kissed her deeply, tasting himself on her lips. He pushed her down roughly on the bed, her calves and feet dangling off the side and pulled off her jeans and panties in a single motion. The air was cool against her naked skin and goose bumps arose along her stomach and down her thighs.

Sam stared at her for several silent seconds before kneeling at the end of the bed, hooking her legs over his shoulders and pulling her towards him.

He used his fingers first. Teasing, light strokes along her inner thigh and up over her belly. He ran his fingers through the patch of curls between her legs, his touch so gentle she almost couldn't feel it.

Already Andy was wet and ready. She shifted restlessly, spreading her legs, trying to encourage him to touch her when she needed it most.

He increased the pressure of his fingers along her thigh, tracing achingly slow circles upwards until at last he ran a finger down her wet center, flicking over the sensitive nub of her clitoris. He pulled away, too quickly, and returned both hands to her thighs.

Andy whimpered. White hot need pooled between her legs and she twisted her hands in the bedding to keep from reaching down and satisfying it herself.

Sam lowered his head and gently nipped the skin of her inner thigh before soothing it with his tongue. He slipped two fingers inside, continuing to nip and soothe with his mouth until she thrashed under him, moaning his name.

He used two fingers to spread her open and ran his tongue over her. The rough, wetness of his tongue on her clit was enough to make Andy see stars. She didn't think she'd ever been this aroused, not even the first time they'd had sex, nearly a year earlier. He circled her clit with his tongue, slowly at first and then gradually faster.

"Harder." She groaned, hands reaching for his head, "Right there. Oh God, Sam." She dug her fingers into his scalp, urging him on. "Don't stop." She could feel her muscles tightening and she let her eyes close as a wave of pure, toe curling, pleasure washed over her.

Sam continued to tease her clit, drawing out the orgasm.

When she was finished he joined her on the bed, pulling a blanket over their naked bodies to trap out the rapidly cooling spring evening. Andy turned on her side, pillowing her head on his chest. She knew he couldn't stay the night. It was too risky. But in that moment she was happy to soak up as much of him as she could.

He brushed her hair back from her face with one hand. "How are you?"

"I'm fine."

He took one of her hands in his, threading their fingers together. "Andy," His voice was slightly stern, "it's me. How are you, really?"

She sighed. A year ago she would have been able to brush the question off. Even if she didn't really fool him he would have changed the subject. But since they had started.. whatever this was, he didn't let her. "It's harder than I thought it would be." She admitted. "They're not all bad people."

He squeezed her hand. "No, they're not. Did you think they would be?"

"I don't know..." she thought for a second, "I guess so."

Sam kissed her gently on the forehead but wisely said nothing.

"I'm supposed to meet Anton tomorrow night."

"Have you told Boyd yet?" She could hear the tension in his voice and wondered if she maybe should have kept that bit of information to herself.

"No, I was going to send him a message when I got in but..." she let the sentence dangle.

"Right," Sam had the grace to sound embarrassed. "I should probably go." He started to sit up.

"No." Andy wrapped both arms and one leg around him for good measure. "We still have two hours before my neighbours stagger home. Stay."

She could feel his laughter vibrating through his chest. "Alright, I'll stay on one condition."

She waited for him to name it, already knowing that she would say yes to just about anything. When she'd accepted the undercover job she had never imagined how lonely it would be. Even in those first few weeks, when Sam was her handler and she at least got to see him every few days, she had been lonelier than ever before in her life. When she lost contact with Sam, missing him had been a physical ache.

"Get a message to Boyd about tomorrow. He's going to want to get a team together."

Andy agreed, reluctantly, rising to her feet. She felt around on the floor for a shirt. Sam's was the first he fingers came across, and she slipped it on.

"I'm going to need that back," Sam said, watching her with a smile.

"I don't know. It's a very nice shirt." She raised her eyebrows suggestively. "You may have to fight me for it."

She knelt on the floor and pulled a cell phone out of the mattress. It took only a moment to send off a message to Boyd with the details for the next day, and then she slid the phone back into its hiding place. "Done." She said, crawling back onto the bed.

Sam cupped her face between his hands and kissed her gently on the lips. "Be careful tomorrow. Anton Hill is not someone you want to get on the wrong side of."

"No heroics," She promised, moving so she straddled him and leaning in for another kiss.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Please Review :) **

_For anyone reading my other RB stories_: _New Chapter for Drowning will be up by Thursday, Table for Four is in need of some TLC but I'm hoping to have 17 up by Monday. _


	2. The Real Deal

**The Real Deal**

_"No heroics," she promised, moving so she straddled him and leaning in for another kiss_.

Sam pulled her closer with one hand on the back of her neck. He slid his fingers up over her scalp, letting her long hair tangle around his fingers. It was as soft as he remembered. It fell around their faces like a curtain, smothering him in the scent of her shampoo.

He breathed deeply through his nose, savouring the scent. Two months was too long.

Undercover operations couldn't be rushed. He knew that. But he was hoping fervently that this one was almost over. He'd been drawn to Andy since day one, but it had taken almost two years before he'd managed to do anything about it. At first he'd held back because she was with Luke, and then he'd kept his distance because they were partners and that was better than nothing. That had lasted for nine months.

He didn't think he would ever forget the day they finally got together. More like fell together.

_"Attention all units, shots fired at 6 Ashby Place off King Street East. All available units please respond." _

_Sam picked up the radio, "Mark 1509 responding. We're three minutes out."He flicked on the lights and siren as Andy turned the cruiser around and sped towards the address. _

_They pulled onto the street, siren blaring and lights flashing away, alerting everyone for blocks that the police were on the scene. There was a man standing in the middle of the road, just in front of what Sam guessed was number 6. Andy brought the car to a halt a few meters away. _

_The man turned to face them and then without warning, lifted the gun he held in his left hand and fired three rounds in quick succession at the car. The first two shots pinged off the grill, but the third hit the window, embedding in the windshield, a spider web of cracks spreading from it. The glass held, but Sam knew another direct shot and it might not. _

_Acting purely on instinct he threw open the door and slid out of the car, careful to keep his head low. Across from him he knew Andy was mirroring his movements. His heart thudded loudly in his chest as he brought his gun up. "Drop your weapon." He shouted at the man still standing in the middle of the road, gun in hand. _

_There was an ear splitting scream from one of the houses on the street. The man half turned towards the noise, but not before firing off another round at the cop car. Sam heard the shot his metal and out of the corner of his eye saw Andy stagger back as the door shielding her from the shooter absorbed the shot. _

_"Drop the weapon and put your hands in the air or we will shoot." Sam yelled, lining up the shot as he spoke. _

_Instead of dropping the gun, the man fired a fifth shot at the car. It struck the driver's side window, shattering it into a million shards. _

_Sam pulled the trigger. _

_The shot was perfect, and the man crumpled to the ground. _

_Sam was on his feet and running around to the other side of the car before the body had even hit the pavement. "Andy?" There was blood on the side of her neck and face and trickling down one arm. He dropped to the ground beside her. _

_"I'm fine. It was just the glass." She said, swiping at the blood on her neck so he could see the shallow cut caused by a piece of glass from the window. _

_He cupped her face between his hands, reassuring himself that she was there, and she was fine. Barely cognizant of what he was doing he lowered his head, touching his lips to hers. It was a brief kiss, he pulled away almost before she had a chance to respond. But it was what he'd needed. Slowly he could feel his heart rate returning to a more normal rhythm. _

_"Sam-" Andy looked at him with dark eyes filled with questions. _

_He caressed her cheek softly, and then pulled back so he could radio for a coroner for the shooter and an ambulance for Andy. _

_After that the day passed in something of a blur. Shaw and Epstein arrived just minutes after the shoot out and worked with Sam to take statements. Neighbours had called 911 when they heard a shot fired next door. When they broke open the door to the townhouse they found a woman on the kitchen floor, shot through the forehead. An ambulance arrived and took Andy to the hospital to stitch up the worst of her cuts. Sam wanted to go with her, but he'd shot and killed an armed man which meant he had hours of telling and retelling and pointless paperwork to fill out before he was allowed to go anywhere. When they finally released him for the day, he found Andy waiting in the locker room, cleaned up and apart from a few bandages on her arm and three stitches on her neck she looked as good as new. _

_"What was that?" She asked as soon as the door closed behind him. _

_"The Ds figure he was probably high, the house looked like it had been ransacked.."_

_"I know, Dov told me." She interrupted. "I'm talking about the kiss, Sam."_

_"I-" He grasped for an explanation, any explanation apart from the truth. The truth that he'd been so relieved she was alright that he'd forgotten for a split second that she was his partner and nothing more. The truth that he was pretty certain he'd been in love with her for two years, but never had the guts to say it to her face. Anything but the truth. "I'm sorry." He said at last, turning to his locker so he wouldn't have to look at her. _

_"I'm not." Andy placed one hand on his locker, stopping him from opening it. _

_He turned to face her again. "You're not?" He asked, feeling stupid even as he spoke the question. _

_Her eyes were warm and there was an almost smile on her face. She raised one hand to his face, caressing his cheek with her finger tips. "No," She said, leaning towards him, "Not sorry at all."_

_Their lips met. Sam slid both arms around her waist and pulled her close. _

They had ended that night in his bed and soon developed a pattern of ending their long, stressful days together. Not always with sex, but always together. They'd never defined it. They didn't need to. They were partners. Anything more than that would mean opening up wounds from the past that neither of them wanted to touch. Leaving things undefined was safer.

Except that when Andy had been offered an undercover operation with the drug squad, she'd disappeared. She'd told him she was thinking of it the night before she accepted. He'd told her to be safe. The next day when she'd accepted, he'd volunteered to be her handler. They'd been partners for three years, if anyone was going to be able to keep her safe it was him. But it hadn't lasted.

The failed undercover operation where Sam had first seen Andy was back to bite him again. Three years was a long time, but Sam hadn't been some random cop on the street, he'd immersed himself in Anton's world and made his life difficult for a day. Sam wasn't someone Anton Hill was likely to forget quickly. So he'd been sidelined and for two months he'd been forced to make do with third hand updates on Andy.

Andy seemed to sense that his mind was wandering. She sucked his lower lip into her mouth, biting it gently with her teeth.

He growled and in a single motion flipped her over so he was on top. He held his weight off her with one elbow on the bed, his other hand sliding down to cup her ass.

She slid both hands into his hair, kissing him deeply. She brought her knees up around his hips, open and waiting.

Their eyes locked as he slid slowly into her. She was so beautiful, spread beneath him, her long tussled hair spread out across the bed, her pupils dilated so there was only the thinnest ring of golden brown around the black center.

Sam moved slowly at first. She was tight and wet and it felt amazing. But his control did not hold long. It had been two months, and Andy made the most delicious whimpering noises. Soon he was thrusting into her hard and fast.

She raked his back with her fingernails, thrusting up to meet him. Her inner walls tightened around him and her eyes fell closed as she gave into the orgasm.

His own finish came right on top of hers.

Afterwards he pulled her against his chest and for several minutes they lay in silence. Too soon it was time for him to leave.

Reluctantly he released his hold on her and sat up. His jeans and underwear were in a pile by the wall and he pulled them on in quick succession.

Andy Sat up and began to remove his t-shirt, but he stilled her with his hand. "Keep it, it looks better on you," he said, dropping a kiss on her forehead.

He picked up the jacket and shoes he'd discarded as soon as he'd entered the apartment hours earlier. When he was fully dressed he pulled her into his arms. "No heroics." He said into her hair before letting her go.

She smiled, "I promise."

"Good."

For a long moment he stared at her, and then he turned and walked out of her apartment, shutting the door behind him.

He scanned the hall, it was empty and he breathed a sigh of relief as he made his way to the stairwell. He'd had to see her, but he knew full well there would be hell to pay if he were caught compromising one of Boyd's operations.

o o o

"Remember, we need proof of him actually engaging in a criminal activity."

"I know," Andy resisted the urge to roll her eyes. This was not her first UC job. It wasn't even her first UC job for Boyd. And yet the detective had insisted on meeting her before dawn to go over the details they'd covered at least eighteen times in the last two months.

"We can't wire you, it's too risky, but we'll have cover teams here and here," he indicated two spots on the map he'd spread before them. "If you get into trouble, you know the signal."

Andy couldn't stop a smile at that. The signal had been Sam's idea. It wasn't subtle, but it would work in a pinch and there was no chance in hell that the cover team would miss it. Still, she hoped she wouldn't ever have to use it. She wasn't entirely sure she was strong enough to throw a chair through a plate glass window.

Boyd rolled up the map and shoved it in his bag. "Get pictures if you can, but don't break your cover."

"Anything else?"

"Just one more thing," He dropped the bag on the table and gave her a hard look, "Next time Swarek decides to pay you a midnight visit, tell him to use the fire escape."

Andy could feel the blush creeping up her cheeks. Her brain grasped for an explanation that wouldn't get both her and Sam fired but came up empty. "Did you tell Best?"

Boyd shook his head. "Not this time, but if it happens again..." he let the implications linger.

"We're both fired." Andy guessed.

He shook his head, "Not fired. Definitely reassigned, maybe transferred to another Division."

Transferred. In many ways that was worse than fired. Another division would mean never seeing each other at work, and little chance of matching schedules. The idea of working the streets long term with anyone but Sam was not worth thinking about. "It won't happen again."

"Good." Boyd patted her on the shoulder, "we're in the home stretch. A couple more weeks and you and Swarek can do whatever you like."

Andy's face flushed again. So much for keeping their.. Whatever they were.. A secret. She wondered if Boyd had given Sam a similar shakedown.

Somehow she doubted it. Boyd may be Sam's superior in rank, but when it came down to it, She'd never seen Sam cowed by the detective. Usually when Boyd and Sam butted heads it ended with Sam doing things his way while an exasperated Boyd stood in the corner gnawing at his knuckles until everything turned out fine. Of the two of them, Sam had the better instincts. At least as far as Andy was concerned.

Andy has wondered more than once why Sam had turned down the spot in guns and gangs two years earlier. Guns and gangs was really where he belonged. It was where his strengths lay and she often felt like he was wasted on the streets. An inner voice that sounded a lot like Traci told her it was because he hadn't wanted to leave her. But even after everything they'd been though, she had a hard time understanding how he could give up something that important just for her. No matter how romantic or appealing the idea might be.

She nodded along, not really listening, as Boyd reiterated the plan for the third time that morning. She had work to do, a lot of work, before meeting Anton Hill that night. For one thing, she needed something to wear. If Anton liked his girl's sexy, she would be the sexiest woman in the room. Or at least, the sexiest version of herself that could be had for the fifty dollars she had in her bank account. The quicker she could get close to Anton Hill, the sooner she could find enough evidence for an arrest and get back to her life. Overnight speed had become paramount. She wanted her life back.

"Got it?" Boyd came to the end of his speech.

"Yeah, I've got it." She nodded obediently as she pushed back her chair.

"McNally," he said as she reached for the door.

"What?" She knew she sounded pissed, but she was running on about three hours of sleep and she really wasn't in the mood for Boyd today.

"You're doing good. Just need to hang in there a couple weeks and we'll get the son of a bitch and you and Swarek can do whatever you like."

"Thanks." She said, feeling awkward. It was the first time he'd ever complimented her on anything. Even on previous jobs she'd done where they'd successfully made the bust he'd never once told her she'd done her job right. She wondered just how badly she and Sam could have screwed everything up last night. She figured it had to be serious if Boyd was trying out a pep-talk.


	3. Finessing It

**Finessing It **

_She figured it had to be serious if Boyd was trying out a pep-talk._

The Dragon was a serious step up from the bar she, Vince and Chuck usually worked from. For starters, it was clean. But more than that, it was incredibly opulent. High ceilings, red walls, marble floors and rich mahogany furnishings. The lighting was strategically low, making the entire space feel as if it were lit by candles instead of florescent bulbs in crystal chandeliers. It was the kind of place Andy would never be able to afford drinking at in her usual life. The kind of bar that served twelve dollar single martinis and 21 year old Macallan by the bottle.

She stood in the entrance for a moment just taking it in. She felt under dressed in her twenty dollar dress and thirty dollar stilettos, but it was a little late to do anything about that now. At least the men in the room who had taken notice of her entrance seemed to be too distracted by the amount of leg, back and cleavage the tiny black garment left exposed to care that the 'fabric' had probably once been pop bottles.

The bar was crowded tonight. Andy scanned the room, picking out familiar faces and storing them away to tell Boyd about later. There were a lot in this crowd; not people she had been introduced to since beginning her work months earlier, but faces she'd been drilled on by Boyd and Sam before she'd even begun. Most of them were middle men in the organization, book keepers or, like Chuck, distributers responsible for getting product out to the large network of dealers Anton's organization supplied.

There were a few notable faces missing from the crowd, Anton Hill among them, but enough that if they could arrest the entire party it would cripple the organization, at least for a little while. She thought longingly of the camera phone in her tiny red clutch purse, but she knew that taking pictures would draw attention she couldn't afford.

She saw Chuck at the bar talking earnestly to a man she recognized as Joe Pachatti, but Vince was nowhere in sight.

"Andrea!" Vince appeared at her side. He'd actually put a little effort into his appearance tonight, a black on black suit that did nothing for him, but at least showed he'd thought about dressing up. He held a martini in each hand and he held one out towards her as he scanned her body from head to toe. "Not bad."

She ignored the lecherous look on his face, snagging one of the martinis and downing it in a single swallow. "Vince," She acknowledged him in a bored voice before turning and walking towards Chuck.

He followed her, leaning in so he could whisper in her ear. "Anton's in the back room." His spit sprayed her neck as he spoke and she grimaced. "He asked me to bring you to him. Come on."

Casting one last look towards Chuck and Joey at the bar, Andy allowed herself to be led through the crowd to a set of ornate double doors. Vince pushed open both doors dramatically and Andy followed him into a private dining room even more opulent than the main bar. At a large table on the opposite side of the room sat four men, flanked on both sides by men in ill-fitted suits who were clearly packing some heavy fire power under their ugly grey jackets.

Andy's heart thudded heavily in her chest. She hadn't seen Anton Hill in almost three years, but she would never forget the last time. He looked exactly how she remembered: smug. She just hoped he didn't have an uncanny memory for voices. He'd never gotten a good look at her all those years ago when she'd busted into his building and turned over his accounting files to Sam, but he'd heard her voice. Still, she mused, she'd hardly been a significant person in his world and, unless she was terribly unlucky, he had long forgotten about the female cop who'd been working with Sam Swarek three years earlier.

No one besides Sam knew that she'd met Anton Hill before this operation. She hadn't told Boyd because she knew he would have taken her off the case if there was even the tiniest chance that Anton would realize she was a cop. Sam had agreed with her decision and so she'd kept the rest to herself. Until tonight it hadn't seemed like a big deal, but in that moment, Andy felt a wave of pure panic wash over her.

Conversation at the table stopped as all its occupants turned to see who had entered. Anton Hill's beady eyes fixed on Andy's figure, undressing her with his eyes. It made her wish she'd opted for something less revealing. Dressing sexy for a man like Anton Hill just so she could get close to him was suddenly feeling a lot like her failed first attempt at undercover work, dressing trashy to hook johns.

"Andrea." Anton tilted his head to indicate she should take the empty seat to his left. "Join us."

When she didn't step forward immediately, Vince gave her a push from behind. She staggered for a couple of steps before finding her footing again. It had been months since she'd worn heels and the new stilettos were a half size too big. She shot a venomous look over her shoulder at Vince as she pulled out the chair and took her seat.

Anton dismissed Vince with a flick of his wrist, barely waiting for the door to close behind him before turning to smile at Andy. "Excuse him, he's loyal, but not the brightest."

Andy returned his smile. "I've been around worse," she said in her sweetest voice.

Anton chuckled. "Know anything about poker?" He asked.

"A little." Andy opted for a half truth. She was actually a damn good poker player, but she didn't think advertising that she excelled at a game that involved reading people and lying through your teeth was the smartest move.

"Too bad," Anton looked at the other men at his table. Without a word two of the men set their cards down and rose from the table. "But probably for the best. Never does to mix business with pleasure."

Andy forced a little smile. She still wasn't sure what Anton wanted with her. She'd been doing pretty well for herself, but she knew from the other dealers that Anton rarely met with the lower ranks of his organization. The butterflies in her stomach turned aerials.

"You ever seen the view from the penthouse?" Anton's chair scraped against the floor as he rose to his feet.

Andy shook her head, mutely mirroring his movements.

"You really should, it's spectacular." His beady eyes gave her body another sweep. "Although, you my dear might outshine it a little. That is quite the dress."

Swallowing her nausea Andy forced her face into a shy smile, dropping her chin so she could blink up at him through her lashes. "Thank you," she murmured in a soft, husky tone. Playing demure didn't come naturally to her, but somehow acting this far out of character helped Andy stay grounded. She wasn't flirting with Anton Hill, she was laying a trap. In reality, Andy-the-flirt was the polar opposite of the demure sex-pot she'd transformed herself into for Anton's benefit.

Anton placed a hot hand on Andy's back where black fabric gave way to tanned flesh and guided her down a carpeted hall to the elevator.

It took most of Andy's strength not to shy away from his touch. She wished she wasn't here without backup. Sure, she had her phone tucked into her clutch, but she couldn't exactly whip it out and call Sam for a reassuring pep talk with Anton's hand planted firmly against her vertebrae.

The elevator opened with a bright ding as soon as Anton pressed the button and Andy stepped inside. Her stomach churned with nerves and she almost gave in to her instincts and made a run for it. She wasn't ready. They hadn't prepared for this. She wasn't supposed to be here. What did Anton want? What did he know? _"Anton Hill is not someone you want to get on the wrong side of."_

The elevator ticked upwards, the red digital display above the doors flashing each floor as they passed, 12, 14, 15…

Andy drew a deep breath through her nose, closing her eyes for a moment, collecting herself. She could hear Sam's voice in her head. This time he wasn't warning her about Anton, he was telling her to go with her gut, telling her everything was going to be okay, telling her he loved her. It grounded her. The elevator dinged again. Andy's eyes popped open and she stepped confidently out into the hallway, leaving Anton half a step behind.

"Third door on your left." Anton's reedy voice instructed. He didn't reach for her again, for which Andy was deeply grateful. She'd achieved calm, but she knew it was tenuous at best and it wouldn't take much more than his hands on her skin to send her spiraling back into debilitating terror.

The doorknob turned easily in her hands and Andy stepped into the mostly dark room. The only light came from the city splayed out before her. She scanned the room quickly and breathed a slight sigh of relief when she saw it was laid out like a conference room rather than a bedroom. There was a large table taking up much of the center of the room, surrounded by heavy, black chairs. Without waiting to see what Anton would do, Andy circled the table so she was standing in front of the massive window that took up most of the exterior wall. She could see the CN Tower rising proudly over the heads of the financial district. It really was a spectacular view. "You can see the whole downtown from here," she said in an awed voice.

"I can see everything." Anton agreed.

There was something in his tone that sent a shiver down Andy's spine. She turned.

Anton stood in the doorway. His face looked even more sinister in the half light from the city outside than it had in the mood lighting of the private room downstairs. He smiled. It looked like a wolf baring its teeth. "If you look to your left, just past the Shell station, you see that block of apartment buildings?"

Turning away to follow Anton's directions felt a lot like exposing her jugular to a wild beast, but Andy did it. Her eyes found the Shell easily, the bright yellow of its sign distinct in the sea of white, red, and green lights of the streets. She mentally calculated which Shell it was as her eyes moved past it to the apartment block and her heart stuttered in her chest. She lived in those apartments: not under cover her, not Andrea Malone drug dealer; the real her, Andy McNally, cop of fifteen division. She swallowed. "The brick complex?" She asked in what she hoped was a bored tone. Her heart was hammering so loudly in her chest she could barely hear her own voice.

She heard Anton's footsteps as he circled the table and came to stand behind her. He raised his arm, brushing it against her shoulder as he pointed. "Not the brick ones, the white ones right beside them." He was so close she could feel the breath needed to form each word puff past her ears.

"Oh, yes." Andy shrugged. "What about them?"

"I just acquired them." Anton dropped his arm and took a step back. "It's a nice neighbourhood. Do you know it?"

Andy turned, her heart was still beating triple time, but for the moment confusion overrode fear. "A little. Why?"

"You're doing so well with the lowlifes down in Mount Dennis, I thought you might want to try your hand at something a little more up market."

"You're asking me to move into your building?" Andy didn't have to fake the incredulous tone.

"I'm inviting you to come live in my building, rent free." Anton corrected her.

"Nothing is free."

"Vince was right about you." Anton said, almost to himself. "No, nothing is free. You'll be working for me, directly. I could use a fresh face, and yours is such a pretty face."

"I'm no prostitute."

Anton laughed. "Of course not. I have plenty of prostitutes, and trust me, none of them are living rent free."

Andy smirked to cover a grimace.

"I'm moving you up the distribution chain." He explained. "A woman of your talents is wasted working for thugs like Vince and Chuck, wouldn't you agree?"

Andy's mind raced. Once again she felt woefully underprepared. A promotion? It didn't make any sense. Yet… what else could be going on here? She felt trapped and confused and just a tiny bit pleased. The higher she could get in Anton's organization, the more people they could take with Anton when the operation was completed. She focused on that tiny seed of excitement and flashed a smile at Anton. "I think we could come to an agreement."

Anton looked genuinely pleased and for a moment Andy forgot that she was terrified of him. "Wonderful. I have some paper work for you. Got to keep this all on the up and up, right?" He laughed at his own attempt at humour.

The chuckled Andy forced out sounded manic. She couldn't help it. This night was not turning out at all like she'd expected.

"Enjoy the view, I'll be right back." Anton said, patting her on the shoulder.

Andy dutifully turned back to the window, grateful for the opportunity to try and sort out what the fuck had just happened.

"Just one thing," Anton said, pausing in the doorway and turning back to Andy.

She half turned, raising her eyebrows in a silent question.

"How long have you been fucking Sam Swarek?"

For a full three seconds Andy couldn't speak. She couldn't even breathe. It was like someone hit pause on the entire world. When she recovered from the shock her brain kicked into high gear, three different lies bubbling to the surface for her to choose from. But by then it was too late. The three seconds were all Anton needed.

"I'll take your purse, Officer." He said, holding out one hand.

Andy contemplated sprinting past him, but in half-size too big heels, with a first floor full of Anton's goons she knew she would never make it. Shooting daggers at him with her eyes, she tossed her clutch down on the table. It slid across the polished oak surface, stopping just at the edge.

Anton plucked it up. His eyes swept her body once more. "Shame," He said in a conversational tone, "You really could have become something." He shrugged. "Oh well. We all make our choices don't we?"

Even if she had had something to say, Andy didn't think she could have spoken. Her mouth was dry and she wasn't even sure if she was breathing. Her stomach was knotted so tightly it was physically painful. She catalogued her resources. She had a lock pick stowed in her bra and her stilettos could probably do some damage in close combat, but otherwise she was completely unarmed.

"I need to get back to my guests. There's a window behind you if you want to make a grand exit, otherwise I expect you'll be here when I return." With that, he closed the door with a resounding click. Andy heard the jangling of keys and then the telltale rasp of a deadbolt sliding into place.


	4. Going Nowhere

**Going Nowhere**

_Andy heard the jangling of keys and then the telltale rasp of a deadbolt sliding into place. _

It didn't take long for Andy to assess the situation. There weren't many options so that made her job easy. The door had two locks, the normal door lock which she could pick easily, and a deadbolt, which apparently only locked from the outside. That would be more difficult.

Pulling her lock picking tools one by one from the lining of her bra as she went, Andy rounded the table. She stopped in front of the door and stared at it, as if she could will it open with the sheer force of her desperation. It opened out, not in, so hinges were out of reach. The regular lock looked simple enough, but, with the deadbolt firmly in place, unlocking it would get her nowhere. The deadbolt was the problem then. Where on a normal deadbolt, like the one in her home and most of the rooms at the station, there would be a piece she could turn to release the bolt, there was a simple silver metal circle.

She didn't know how long she stood there, mind racing as she tried and rejected several ideas a second. Screaming for help would do no good, anyone who would hear her would be on Anton's payroll. She couldn't physically break it down, she knew her own limits by now and she was not heavy enough or strong enough to kick down a solid, dead-bolted door. She would need tools she didn't have to get to the deadbolt mechanism, so picking her way out wasn't going to work. That left her one option.

Andy eyed the window with trepidation. This was one options she was hoping to never use. She kicked off her shoes, leaving them by the door, and returned to the window. She could see the sidewalk and street below. Both were nearly empty.

Taking a deep breath for courage, she picked up one of the heavy, black chairs that surrounded the conference table and swung it with all her strength against the window. A spider web of cracks spread out from the point of impact but the glass did not give way. A voice shouted something indistinguishable from down the hall. Empowered by a jolt of adrenaline, Andy swung the chair again, with even more force, letting go moments before it struck the already weakened window. This time the glass exploded outward. The chair sailed through and both chair and shattered glass tumbled down to the sidewalk below.

There was another shout from down the hall. Andy dove under the table, fumbling for the shoes she had discarded. Her fingers closed around one rounded toe and she pulled the shoe to her. Gripping it tightly in one hand she rolled sideways, hiding herself as best she could behind one of the two thick wooden panels that supported the table. Curled into a tight ball, ready to scramble out at any moment, Andy waited.

It was torturous. From the broken window she could hear traffic noises in the street, every siren could be help coming or simply a part of life in the city; every shout could be an extraction team breeching the building, or just another idiot who'd drunk a little too much. And then the noises were definitely coming from within the building. She heard a woman scream and a general commotion from downstairs and her heart lifted. They had seen her signal, they were coming for her. She'd never felt so relieved in her life. And then, long before she could expect them to have cleared the building she heard two male voices in the hall right outside the door.

Andy's blood ran cold. Her sweaty fingers closed more tightly around her shoe. She didn't have to get away, she just had to stay safe long enough for her team to find her. The footsteps and voices belonging to them passed her door without opening it and Andy could have cried from relief if she hadn't been focusing on not making a single noise.

She didn't know how long she crouched there. It seemed like everything since she'd arrived at the Dragon that evening happened in both fast forward and slow motion. With the exception of the endless three seconds where the entire universe had paused in its orbit from the force of Anton's question: _How long have you been fucking Sam Swarek? _ Such a simple question: _eleven months, three days, twelve hours and forty-five, wait forty-six seconds_. Such a loaded statement: _I know who you are, officer Andy McNally; I know who you love, or at least who you fuck; I know just how to hurt you; I'm not afraid of you, or fifteen division, or any cop in any force in the city; and I wanted to make sure you knew all of this before I kill you_. Her legs fell asleep. She shifted her weight and then nearly bit through her lower lip to keep from hissing as painful pins and needles raced up her calf.

And then the discomfort was forgotten. With a rasp of metal on metal that she only heard over the traffic below because she was listening for it, the deadbolt slid back.

A thousand thoughts ran through Andy's mind in the seconds it took the man on the other side to release the main lock and swing the door open. Later she would say that it wasn't her life which flashed before her eyes, at least not the life she'd lived so far. It was… the future? Every hope she'd ever told herself was too much. She saw her dad smiling and happy, looking healthier than he had in years though older. She saw her friends, all looking happy, older, more mature, but filled with the kind of joy that only comes to those whose lives have been truly blessed. She saw her wedding dress: not the beaded, poufy thing she'd envisioned for her perfect, white picket future with Luke Callaghan, but something she would actually pick out and like: simple, white, comfortable, yet still lovely. But most of all she saw Sam: standing at the end of the aisle, looking at her with so much love in his eyes it took her breath away; placing his hand on her pregnant stomach, looking at her with that half-scared, half-hopeful look he'd given her the first time she said 'I love you.' She saw herself with Sam, a tiny tow-headed kid swinging between them, giggling as Andy tried to push him so high Sam couldn't tap the toes of his little shoes as they sailed towards the sky. There was clarity in this brief vision, and also a knife edge of despair. She finally knew what she wanted, and it was too late.

A pair of black boots and jean clad legs appeared in her line of vision and Andy was fully back in the present. She held her breath, eyes glued to those boots as they entered the room. She was so focused on being silent and invisible she barely registered men's voices above her head… familiar men's voices. "—is she…?"

The shoe slipped from her hand, bouncing once against the carpet before lying still. She sucked in a breath that sounded more like a sob. She was safe.

"McNally?"

Andy blinked twice before Boyd's face swam into focus. She accepted the hand he reached out to help her out from under the table.

"Are you okay? Are you injured?" Boyd stepped back so he could do a full body scan with his eyes.

It took two tries for Andy to speak. "I-I'm fine." She rasped. "Did you-?"

"Anton's gone."

Andy sank down into the nearest chair. She couldn't believe it. Or, rather, she didn't want to believe it. She had gone through hell tonight and.. for what? If Anton went underground who knew how long it would be before he surfaced again.

"Come with me, we'll get you debriefed so you can get out of here." A male cop Andy didn't recognize held out her shoes.

She took them but didn't put them on. Every muscle in her body ached and she didn't think she could muster the energy to walk in heels right now. Shoes dangling from one hand, Andy followed Boyd and the other officer from the conference room.

o o o

Half an hour later, Andy found herself in a small windowless room alone with Boyd, and he did not look happy.

"Tell me again, from the beginning, what the hell happened?"

Andy had already been through the story twice. This time she stuck to the cliff notes version. "Vince brought me to see Anton. Anton took me upstairs and told me he knew I was a cop. I couldn't pick the deadbolt, so I had to use my exit signal. "

"Did Anton hit you?"

"No."

"Threaten you?"

Andy did not like where this was heading. "Not explicitly. But... It's Anton Hill! He didn't have to."

Boyd rubbed his face with both hands for a moment as if he could scrub away reality. "Okay. Please let me get this straight. Not only did you fail to get any hard evidence linking anyone here to Anton hill, you pulled the rip cord on a four month undercover operation because you had a bad feeling?"

Andy gaped at him for a moment. She could barely believe this. An hour ago she had been hiding under a conference table, clutching a shoe and hoping that whoever Anton sent to finish her off wasn't carrying a gun, and now Boyd was calling her a wimp and a quitter. "He told me to throw myself out a window or wait until he returned. Doesn't take a genius to know what he meant!"

"Unless you shoved a tape recorder into that dress no jury is going to convict him of anything. Face it, McNally, you got scared. It's my fault really. I shouldn't have let you on this case in the first place."

"So sorry I'm such an inconvenience." Andy snapped. "Next time I'll just let him kill me then, will that be better?"

"Trust me, there won't be a next time. Either you're deeply incompetent or you're cursed, not sure which is worse, but believe me when I tell you this will be your last undercover assignment."

Andy shrugged. She would probably care, tomorrow or in a year, but right now she just didn't. "Are we done?"

"There'll be paperwork, but that can wait until tomorrow"

Andy nodded, too tired to bother responding.

"You need a ride back to the station?"

Andy shook her head. There was only one place she wanted to be and she would rather walk than ask Boyd to drive her.

o o o

It took less than five minutes to flag down a cab and it wasn't until she was halfway to Sam's that Andy realized she had no money. Her purse was in an evidence bag back at the hotel. That realization was the last straw. What Anton's threats and all of Boyd's anger hadn't been able to accomplish the frustration of forgetting such a basic thing as money did, turning her face away from the drive Andy let tears flow unchecked down her face.

The cab turned the corner onto Sam's street and Andy quickly swiped at her face. She almost asked the cabbie to keep driving. She was a mess and Sam didn't need to see her like this. But she didn't because, whether or not she wanted to admit it to herself, she needed him.

"Just, wait here for a minute?" Andy said to the driver when he pulled up to Sam's building. She knocked on Sam's door. His truck was in the driveway so she knew he was home.

Sam, wearing jeans and a t-shirt, his hair rumpled opened the door. He stared at Andy for a moment like he couldn't believe his eyes. "Andy? Are you… what happened?"

"I don't have any money." Andy said lamely, gesturing towards the cab idling at the curb.

Shooting her a concerned look, Sam disappeared from sight for a moment and re-emerged with his wallet. He paid the cab driver and then turned to Andy. "What happened? Are you alright?"

Andy opened her mouth to explain, but nothing came out. There was a gigantic lump stopping her speech and she was afraid if she pushed too hard she might cry. The adrenaline that had gotten her through the last four hours was long gone and in its wake she was more exhausted than she ever had been in her life.

"Come inside," Sam reached to guide her inside.

Instead of falling in step with Sam, Andy turned and stepped into his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her face against the soft cotton of his shirt.

Sam's arms wrapped around her and held her tightly. He pressed a kiss against her hair.

"I blew it." Andy said at last, the words muffled against Sam's chest. "I thought he was going to…"

Sam's arms tightened around her, but he didn't say anything, giving her time to collect her thoughts.

"He knew. He knew who I was, and…" She took a shaky breath. "He knew about you. I don't know how… I didn't tell Boyd that… that Anton knew. I – he must have had me watched or… I don't know… Oh God Sam, I thought he was going to… I thought I would never see you again."

Sam loosened his hold on her and tilted his head so he could see her face. "Are you okay? Did he-"

"He didn't touch me." Andy jumped in, relieving Sam's fear. "He just.. threatened to. Boyd is pissed."

"Boyd's always pissed." Sam said dismissively. He didn't care how angry Boyd got; Andy was safe and that was all that mattered.

She chuckled, snuggling into his chest. The way her head fit perfectly under his chin made her feel safe, like everything might be okay despite Boyd's threats. "What if he tells Frank?"

"He won't."

"But—"

"Andy, he won't." Sam used one hand to tilt her chin up so he could meet her eyes. He held her gaze for several long silent seconds.

A smile tugged at Andy's lips. It was hard not to be taken in by Sam's confidence.

"Hungry?" Sam asked. "I think there's a pizza in the freezer."

Andy kissed him softly. "Can we just… stay?"

Sam rested his cheek against the top of her head. Eventually they would need to actually go inside, but for now he was perfectly happy just to hold Andy as if he would never let her go. "I'm not going anywhere."

_**The End.**_

_A/N: First, I am so sorry it took me over 2 years to finish this story. My only excuse is to say that it has been a crazy two years, and Anton Hill is a recalcitrant character, I made several attempts to finish Chapter 3 over the last couple years and finally he cooperated and said something that wasn't horrifyingly innuendo laden.. and now here we are. _

_Thank you to everyone who has come back to this story and to those of you discovering it for the first time. Please take a second to leave a review. _


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